Oh So Pretty
by S. E. Holmes
Summary: Spoilers for HBP. Voldemort's going to have a huge dinner party, and he thinks Snape needs some primping beforehand. Poor potions master...
1. Chapter 1

**Oh So Pretty**

**Chapter One**

Disclaimer: Don't own.

A/N: I was sitting at my computer at 11:30, munching on popcorn, when BAM! Inspiration hit me like a bug on a windshield. Hope you enjoy this.

Voldemort sighed as he lounged is his ornately carved silver throne. Beautiful snakes with emerald eyes twisted to make the arms and back. Black cushions made the seat comfortable. The room he was in was long and rectangular with the huge chair being the only furniture to adorn the place. For a moment, Voldemort drifted back to the past, to a time when the Throne Room had been host to four long tables with benches on either side. A shorter table with proper chairs had been at the end, where Voldemort now sat. The candles that had floated in the air were replaced with torches on the walls, again snakes, with the flames seeming to pour out of their mouths. The ceiling still reflected the outside sky, because Voldemort liked it and by Golly, if Voldemort wants something he gets it, and woe to the person who tries to interfere.

Yes, to those of you brighter than a shoebox.

Voldemort had taken up residence in Hogwarts.

Why Hogwarts? Well, Dumbledore had been right on the money when he said that Voldemort admired symbolism and irony. That and Hogwarts was super funky. So when the war was over and Evil had triumphed, Voldemort packed his suitcases and moved in.

Albus Dumbledore's private office had become his private bedroom. The Great Hall became the Throne Room. Voldemort had offered the second best office, formally belonging to Minerva McGonagall, to his second-in-command, who had politely turned it down so he could return to his office in the dungeon.

Ooo, you're two for two, now.

Severus Snape was Voldemort's Number Two.

Severus was the obvious choice, of course. You don't whack someone Voldemort feared as much as Dumbledore and not get rewarded somehow. So Voldemort had given the lucrative position of Second-in-Command to Severus (and not Lucious Malfoy), and breathed a sigh of relief. You see, Voldemort had ordered Narcissa Malfoy to make Severus do the whole Unbreakable Vow thingummy. Voldemort had been concerned about Draco's nerve and about Severus' loyalty. So, the evil genius had killed two birds with one stone, or rather, a really troublesome old fart with one spell.

With a sigh, Voldemort stood and began the long trek back to his rooms. His rooms were way cooler than the Throne Room, and tricked out with tons more evil stuff and snakes. He also needed to decide what to wear for dinner...

"SON OF A GRIFFINDOR!" Severus yelled, dropping a jar as he began choking and hacking as a purple smoke, a shade that can only be described as 'fruity,' began to fill his workroom. With a simple wave of his wand, the smoke disappeared as did the orange goo from whence it came.

Severus stared at the wreck of melted cauldron that was left. Two weeks. He'd been working on this potion for two bloody weeks and at the last step something had screwed up and ruined the whole. bloody. thing.

Sweeping over to the jar that he had dropped on the floor, Severus began closely examining it's contents. It was labeled 'Newt Spleen' but on further examination contained newt gallbladder. Severus gripped the jar and seethed. Draco Malfoy had to be the most worthless Apprentice/Errand Boy/Gigolo that Severus had ever met. Draco's gigoloness even outweighed that of Harry Potter, James Potter, and Sirius Black. COMBINED. It was pretty obvious what had happened. Severus had sent Draco out for a five minute trip to Knockturn Alley to get a pint of newt spleen. It had taken him nearly four hours. _Let me see, _thought Severus, _That's one hour to primp, another hour to primp after arriving by floo powder, because Slytherin forbid anyone see him covered in ash after traveling through chimneys. Two minutes to get the spleen whist being distracted by some pretty girl, and the rest of the time spent flirting with said girl, until she leaves because she feels less pretty than him. _Snape sighed and began to fumble among his stores for a headache potion. _Yep. That about covers it._

All of a sudden, a House Elf appeared with a loud CRACK. He bowed low before Severus before speaking, "The Dark Lord Voldemort, in his infinite Knowledge, Wisdom, and Good looking ness, who is know world-wide for his Killer Fashion sense and Gorgeous Figure, not to mention Luxurious Black Hair, commands you to come to his chambers immediately." With another CRACK, the house elf vanished.

Severus grimaced slightly at the title as he removed his I HEART POTIONS apron and began to ascend from the Dungeons to Voldemort's rooms. _I hope the Dark Lord isn't in dire need of that shampoo that was just wrecked... _

Next chapter up soon...reviews are nice...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

A/N: Thanks bunches to all my reviews! Even to the one that was kinda nasty... I agree, Voldemort doesn't really have hair, but he probably won't win the war either. Use your imagination, mkay?

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Severus never failed to be amazed when he entered the Dark Lord's dressing room. Originally a very nice walk-in closet, the room had been expanded to include rows and rows of clothes, shoes, and accessories, three body-length mirrors, an ornate dressing table, and in one corner, Voldemort's own personal nail salon.

Voldemort was prancing in front of his mirrors, wearing stunning robes of silver silk. The material was so fine that it seemed to be made of water. His equally silky hair cascaded over his shoulders and swept through the air whenever he turned. Over a cushy chair were several more robes. One was blood red, another sky blue, and the last a simple but elegant black. At the sound of the door, Voldemort struck a pose for a rather bemused Severus.

"How do I look?" Voldemort asked, twirling around, so the robe caught the air and billowed out.

"Um, you look... absolutely ravishing, My Lord," Severus managed, wishing he was still in his dungeon.

Voldemort turned back to the mirrors, "Yes. I do, of course. But..." He picked up the red robe, "Perhaps I would look better in this one. It matches my eyes.What do you think?"

Severus felt like a trapped rat, "I'm sure you will look stunning in whatever you choose."

Voldemort sighed, "Severus, I will not be angry with you if you truthfully tell me if one of these is better on me than the other. I need to know your honest opinion. Lucious Malfoy and his son are coming for dinner tonight, along with a load of my Death Eaters, and I need to outshine them all. I will anyway, of course, but I want to do it by a lot." He had the expression commonly seen on six year olds who are competing for the largest candy haul on Halloween.

"My Lord, I'm not the best person to choose for fashion advice."

Voldemort frowned slightly, "Well, I suppose I cannot argue with that," He swept over and began plucking at Severus' robes, "You always wear the same old black, drab things. The black would be nice, of course, but nothing shaped like a potato sack is good." Voldemort pushed a reluctant Severus over to the mirrors, "Now, if the robes were tighter fitting at the shoulders, maybe showing off more of your figure, then a gentle widening all the way to the ground..."

Clapping his hands twice, the House Elf from before reappeared. He bowed very low, his long nose brushing the floor, "What you do wish, My Master?"

Voldemort tossed the black robe to Severus, "Put this on. Binky will see that it is properly fitted."

"But-I-but..."

Ignoring Severus' stuttered protests, Voldemort swept over to the room's oak doors. "No buts," Voldemort said with a childish giggle, "You will look pretty tonight, for once in your life. Oh, and before I leave," He moved to a cabinet and rummaged among several bottles before pulling out one filled with a clear goo, "Wash your hair with this before you show up. Really, Severus, you make such wonderful shampoo, I don't understand why you never seem to use it yourself."

Severus winced, "You are indeed generous, My Lord, but the newest batch was ruined today because Draco Malfoy is an incompetent, distracted temp. It will be two weeks before more can be completed."

Voldemort laughed, "Sevy, I have a large supply in case of emergencies. Don't worry about it, and just concentrate on looking nice tonight."

The bang of the closing doors behind Voldemort's back seemed, to Severus, to be his death sentence.

_Later..._

Severus stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waste. He wiped the steam off the mirror and began combing his wet locks. The shampoo had seemed to work. His normally lank hair seemed much more soft and smooth, even while wet. _Alright. The stuff is good. I'll have to keep some for myself from now on. _

Severus then moved from his bathroom to his bedroom where the black robe was neatly lying on his bed, nearly indistinguishable from his black blankets. He slipped in on. He had to admit, the silk _was_ nice, and Severus supposed it wasn't entirely wrong to pamper himself once in awhile. _I think,_ thought Severus, _I could sleep in something like this. Hmm... black silk jammies...

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_jerks out of Severus Black Silk Jammy fantasy_ Review, please!


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